


Lost and Found

by Huntress79, sarasaurusrex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Always Keep Fighting, Amnesiac Sam Winchester, Angel Healing, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Castiel & Sam Winchester Bonding, Castiel Saves Sam Winchester, Castiel Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Creature Fic, Cursed Sam Winchester, Curses, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Angst, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Fight, Demons, Fear of Death, Heavy Angst, Hurt Sam Winchester, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Suicide, Monster of the Week, Mystery, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Potions, Protective Rowena MacLeod, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Rowena MacLeod & Sam Winchester Friendship, Sam Winchester Whump, Sam almost dies, Soul Touching, Trauma, Winchester Family (Supernatural) Drama, angel grace, deathbed confessions, reverse sex pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-01 10:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarasaurusrex/pseuds/sarasaurusrex
Summary: When Sam starts acting strange, Dean’s faith in his brother comes undone, and after a bad fight causes Sam to leave the bunker for good it seems impossible they’ll ever be able to reconcile. But Castiel suspects something more is going on. He finds Sam, only to discover his worst fear: Sam is not himself, and it might be too late to save him. Castiel enlists Rowena to help solve the mystery of Sam’s condition, cure him, and reunite the Winchesters.Made for the Supernatural Trope Celebration on tumblr! Written by Sarasaurusrex,Art by Huntress79





	1. Chapter 1

[](https://images2.imgbox.com/a6/93/8eyWQJdC_o.jpg)

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[](https://images2.imgbox.com/5f/f2/XP7ICdU2_o.jpg)

Dean awoke early in his room in the Men of Letters’ Bunker. The smell of coffee coaxed him from a deep sleep, and he shuffled towards the kitchen. The lights were on and he could hear Sam and Mary chatting in the next room. Tousle-haired and puffy-eyed, Dean poured himself a cup of coffee.

  
“Sam.”

Sam turned in his chair at the library table, breaking off his conversation with their mom, “What?”

Dean was frowning at him from the doorway with a cup in his hand. It wasn’t his usual early morning frown.

Mary’s lips tightened.

“What do you call this?”

“Uh, coffee?” Sam forced a smile.

Dean moved to the table where Sam was doing research and set his mug down. The ceramic clacked in the silence, and Sam was confronted with a cup of black goop. Dean was already walking back into the kitchen to empty the pot before Sam could speak.

“I must have… left the burner on,” he deflated in his chair.

Mary gave him a patient look, then got up.

Dean wasn’t shy about making noise while he angrily scraped the coffee pot clean in the sink. He heard Mary’s quiet footsteps behind him all the same.

“Dean.”

He grunted in acknowledgment.

“I think you’re being too hard on Sam,” she said bluntly, “you need to cut him some slack.”

Dean dropped the ruined pot in the sink and watched the burnt, rubbery chips funnel down the drain. “We’re going to need a new coffee pot.”

She blocked him when he turned away, “So he’s made a few mistakes lately...”

“...A few mistakes? Let me see… he lost our badges, you know that fake ones that can get us real arrested, then he forgot the words to an exorcism in the middle of a fight...”

“Okay but...”

“...he loaded the guns with the wrong bullets, and he got Baby towed!” Dean had clearly been leading up to this ultimate act of treachery.

Mary took a breath, “Baby?” She fought back a smile, “I didn’t know you called her that.”

Dean glared. He wished he hadn’t, but he couldn’t help it.

Luckily, Mary was immune to that face. “Look, he’s having a bad week.”

Dean huffed, “Well tell me when he has a good one.” He strode around her and grabbed the Impala keys.

“Where are you going?”

“To buy a new coffee pot!” He shouted, loud enough for Sam to hear.

Sam was, in fact, having a terrible week. He’d been off his game ever since they took down a spirit in New Mexico. A town was suffering from a rash of plague-like disease that ended up being the result of a Nosoi – a Greek spirit of illness. Sam and Dean managed to kill it with an olive branch dipped in tsipouro (a kind of cure-all snake oil) and the people who were infected were nursed back to health in a matter of days. Sure, one patient died, but it wasn’t enough to explain Sam’s sudden drop in performance.

It was easy to ignore at first – funny even. Sam kept losing his things and forgetting passwords. For a moment Dean thought he might have touched another rabbit’s foot. But after a few days of this, Dean finally reached his breaking point. Sam’s offenses were getting more serious, and once Sam lost their keys for the hundredth time, Dean lost it.

Mary had been staying out of it, but she couldn’t stand seeing her youngest son so miserable. It brought out the worst in Dean, who was snapping at everyone and giving Sam the cold shoulder. Even Castiel had noticed. He preferred to observe rather than intervene, until Dean forced his hand the next day.

  
Sam had been spending a lot of time on his phone and Dean had a theory it had something to do with his inability to do anything right. So when Sam left the room, leaving Castiel and Dean alone at the table, Dean swiped it.

Castiel glanced cautiously at Dean as he flipped through Sam’s messages.

“Um...” Castiel cleared his throat.

Dean ignored him.

Castiel observed tentatively, watching Dean’s expression turned to one of confusion, then anger. When Sam got back, Dean didn’t even put his phone down.

"What are doing with my phone?" Sam noticed at once.

What followed was a fight so loud that it alerted Mary from the garage. She ran into the room and saw Castiel holding Sam back. Sam was completely unraveled, while Dean’s anger was beyond physical expression. He looked mutinous.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, silencing their overlapping shouts.

Sam tried to get his phone back, but Dean tossed it to Mary instead. Mary didn’t mean to look, but once she did she didn’t look back up.

“Marius? You’re talking to Marius?” She asked.

“Yup.” Dean’s cold gaze slid back to Sam, “All these cases we’ve been working, they’ve been coming from him, haven’t they?”

Sam glared at him.

“You’re getting cases from demons!”

“So what?” Sam’s voice shook, “After Crowley died, they started coming to me...”

“Oh, like that makes it better?” Dean shouted.

“...so why shouldn’t I use their information? We used to work with Crowley! I’m not going to turn down cases just because they’re coming from...”

“Demons, Sam! Demons! You’re working with demons, behind my back! I can handle you burning the coffee or losing my keys, but this? Don’t you dare go down this road again...”

Sam froze, “What road? Cas, get off! What road, Dean?”

“You are a child, Sam! You know that?” Dean snarled at him. "If you can't see…"

“That’s enough!” Mary raised her voice and both boys stopped bitterly, “Dean, Sam’s right. This is not the first time we’ve worked with the enemy.”

“That’s not-”

“Sam,” Mary pressed on, “if you knew this was the right thing to do, you wouldn’t have kept it a secret.”

“I’m not-”

“Still, if demons are coming to Sam it’s not a terrible idea to use it,” she reasoned, “but we need to have a serious conversation, later, about how we’re going to use...”

“We’re not using it," Dean cut her off.

“Dean...” Castiel finally spoke up, “Mary’s right, it’s not a bad idea."

Dean rounded on Castiel, “I said...”

“Fine,” Sam glared at Dean. He shoved Castiel off, who let him go reluctantly.

“I mean it, Sam,” Dean looked at him dangerously, "If you get involved with demons again, so help me…"

Sam shook his head in disbelief and left the room, speechless with fury. Dean didn’t look at Mary or Castiel. He left the room in the opposite direction.

Mary and Castiel exchanged exasperated looks.

“What was that about?” Mary asked, “Sam and demons?” She could tell from the look on Castiel’s face that it was a sensitive topic. She felt bad that she didn't already know the answer.

“It’s nothing.” He said at last. He gave her an unconvincing smile, but Mary didn’t press the issue.

  
The rest of the day was stuffy and tense. Sam and Dean were overly formal around one another, and Dean kept giving Castiel annoyed looks. Sam wasn’t looking at anyone.

It took a full day for the hostility to die down, and that was after Castiel brought them all pie and beer for lunch. Mary and Sam found a hunt and called everyone together. It seemed like it would be a challenge, so they decided to take it on as a family before Mary returned to Donna’s cabin.

After a quick but thankfully peaceful meal, they hit the road. Sam offered to drive with Mary to give her some company on the three hour trek. Castiel drove with Dean in the Impala, while Mary and Sam took one of the Men of Letters’ trucks they both liked.

  
Dean was relieved to spend some time away from Sam and Mary, even if it made him feel guilty. But when Castiel turned out to be just as awkwardly quiet as Sam, he felt his mood begin to turn again.

After a few minutes, Castiel finally gave Dean the ‘can we talk?’ look. Dean tried to ignore it, choosing to watch the inky sky swallowing the road ahead, but Castiel was boring holes into Dean’s ear.

Dean sighed, “What is it, Cas?”

“Dean,” Castiel began, “I think there might be something wrong with Sam.”

Dean scoffed, “You’re telling me.”

“No, I mean… something really wrong.”

Dean glanced at him, “What do you mean?”

“You said you hunted a Nosoi last week?”

“Yeah… and?”

“And that’s when Sam’s symptoms started?”

Dean saw where this was going, “He’s not sick, Cas. He’s just… well, I don’t know what he is. But there’s nothing wrong with him.”

“Dean, you hunted a spirit of disease. What if Sam got infected?”

“No.” Dean argued, “The people who got sick weren’t losing their wallets, they were sick sick. Like, mentally...” Dean spun a finger around his temple, “And Sam’s not that kind of sick. Neither am I, for that matter. So, yeah. Besides, the spirit's dead. Sam would have gotten better by now. Everyone else did.”

“What about the girl who died?”

Dean thought about it. “The doctors said she was already sick. I’m sure it wasn’t related.”

Even without looking at him, Dean could tell that Castiel wasn’t convinced.

“If you’re so worried about Sam why don’t you drive with him?” he snapped.

Castiel stared at him.

Dean sighed, trying to keep his anger in check, “Look, I know you’re worried about him...”

“I’m worried about both of you,” he clarified.

“Okay, well, don’t be. We’re fine. Or at least, we’re not sick.”

Castiel finally dropped it. Dean’s response was uncannily similar to Mary’s after Castiel voiced the same concern to her before leaving. She agreed that something was off about Sam, but his symptoms weren’t like the victims of the Nosoi, and with the spirit dead Sam would have snapped out of it like the others. It didn’t add up. Yet, Castiel couldn’t shake the feeling that they were driving to their doom.

“C’mon, let’s talk about something else,” Dean pulled his thoughts back together, “I feel like we haven’t talked in days. How are your wings?”

Castiel had almost forgotten about that. He was one of the only angels who had wings now, having been graceless when the Angels fell. When he got his grace back, his wings hadn’t been destroyed, but they were weak.

“They’re healing,” he rolled his shoulders and Dean could practically feel the flutter of air behind his head, “I wouldn’t risk using them yet. It might be a one way trip. So... don’t get into an accident.”

Dean smiled roughly, “I wasn’t planning on it. But that’s good. You’ll be flying again in no time.” Dean’s smile faded, “And what about Sam?”

“What about him?”

“Dunno. You’ve just spending a lot of time with him? Is there anything I should know about?”

Castiel's brow came together in confusion, "You think I'm also conferring with demons?"

"No, I mean… forget it," Dean said gruffly.


	2. Chapter 2

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/4c/02/QI30U8Kl_o.jpg)

Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Mary pulled into a warehouse parking lot. They parked beside one another as their headlights were swallowed up by night.

Several people had disappeared in the last twelve hours after making phone calls in the area, all to the same unidentifiable number: 616. Mary hunted a case like this in Texas, but she never figured out what the creature was. All she figures out was that it was using power lines to influence people. Mary didn’t see any power lines here, though.

They went through an unmanned police block and headed down to the second parking lot behind the building. It was late enough so that they had free reign of the place, and they immediately split up and began to search the grounds.

Castiel began to feel uneasy right away. There were no signs of anyone having been there in days, and the police block was minimal at best.

Just as Castiel opened his mouth to voice his concerns, all Hell broke loose. Men and women attacked from the trees, and within seconds a war had broken out under the cold, silent stars.

Shouts of surprise and rage echoed through the trees as all four hunters fought off the oncoming demons. Dean tried to get back to Sam and Mary, but a brawny demon cut off his path. Dean withdrew his knife and stood back to back with Cas.

Sam and Mary had their own demons to contend with. Sam threw Mary his demon blade and punched a demon before taking out his pistol. They were too far from each other to team up, so they could only pray that everyone was holding their own in the chaos.

Shouts and cries echoed off the face of the warehouse as bodies dropped. Dean heard Mary scream, and he took out his panic on the closest demon. He stabbed him in the chest then kicked him off before turning towards the sound.

In all the chaos, Castiel ended up back to back with Sam. Castiel knew if could just reach them all, he could try to fly them back to the cars, but it wasn’t going to happen. Dean and Mary had vanished. Distracted, he caught a punch to his face, breaking his nose. Through the sound of rushing blood, Castiel heard one of the demons egging Sam on.

“C’mon, Sam. I thought you were up for a challenge. Aren’t you the new King of Hell? Ordering us here like you’re the boss. Gotta make it look convincing, right?”

Castiel felt sick, but the taunts had given Sam his edge back. He got the upper hand, and demons fell one after the other to the cracked pavement. One of them managed to stab Castiel and he crumbled, dragging a demon down with him. Sam charged him, killing the demon and throwing him aside to get to Castiel.

“Cas!”

Sam heard Dean shout from somewhere, calling them to retreat to the police block, so he helped Castiel up then hurried after Dean. They saw him running up ahead, but Mary was nowhere to be seen.

Moonlight illuminated pools of blood on the concrete. Sam knocked over a couple of yellow and black barricades in his effort to keep Castiel moving.

They reached salvation at last, coming around the rear of the cars. All seemed quiet, but then Sam caught a punch to the face. Castiel stood there in shock as Sam swayed, then Dean caught him and punched him again. Castiel was stupefied. He was relieved to see Mary clutching the Impala.

“Dean!” Castiel shouted frantically, but Dean had become deaf with rage.

“What happened?” Dean roared.

Sam was on the ground, groaning in pain. Dean grabbed him and pulled him back up to hit him again, “I told you! No demons! I told you!” He hit him again.

Castiel found an untapped well of strength and grabbed Dean, clinging to him desperately. Dean accidentally hit him on the recoil, busting his already broken nose and causing blood to spill down his face, but he still didn’t stop.

“And then you get us set up! You swore! You swore to me it was over!”

"Dean… I didn't…" Sam sputtered.

Mary shouted from the car while they three of them scuffled. Sam was just trying to hold his own while Castiel was trying to avoid really hurting Dean. Dean was beyond himself. Castiel finally seized him around the middle and threw him against the Impala. Castiel clambered over him and held him against it with all his might.

“Stop!”

Mary managed to get to Sam’s side and began helping him up.

Sam was completely disoriented from pain, but a fire had been lit in his eyes. “We don’t work with demons? You were a demon! You were... Crowley’s… bitch!” Sam spat blood.

Unable to move with Castiel on him, Dean felt his rage transform into a slow, molten fury. “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you? Do you want to start another Apocalypse? Do you?"

Castiel shot a fearful look to Mary, “Dean, don’t.”

Sam was shaking as Mary helped steady him against the Jeep.

“You nearly killed mom and Cas! What next? Are you going to start drinking demon blood?” Dean spat, “You just can’t help it, can you? You’re a monster! A freak!”

Dean seemed to have stolen the fire right out of Sam’s eyes, and he stared at Dean in cloudy disbelief.

“You swore to me, Sam! So you can get out! Leave!”

“Dean!” Mary held onto Sam’s arm.

Sam’s eyes were closed, blinded by hot tears.

“You heard me! Leave!”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Dean.” Castiel muttered. But while he could stop Dean from physically harming Sam, he couldn’t stop him from shouting at him.

Mary had never seen either of them this way, but while Dean looked enraged, Sam was distraught. Mary had never been afraid of monsters, but this – this scared her.

While Castiel tried to talk Dean down, Sam shoved himself off of the Jeep and took the keys off of Mary.

“Sam!” Mary scolded him.

“Don’t you dare come back! Don’t you ever call me for help, Sam!”

“Sam, don’t!” Castiel countered.

Mary watched helplessly as Sam limped over to the Jeep and got in. He slammed door and it roared to life, blinding them with light.

Castiel stared in resignation as the Jeep backed up and the headlights turned red and disappeared into the night. Mary walked as far as she could while holding onto the Impala.

Castiel rounded on Dean at once, “What have you done? He’s not in his right mind!”

Dean was unresponsive. His eyes were red and he was staring tight lipped into the dark road.

“Get off me, Cas,” Dean mumbled.

Castiel let him go, looking lost.

Finally, Mary made her way over to him. She didn’t yell or cry, she put a hand on Dean’s arm. He was shaking. She rubbed his shoulder, tending to her remaining son as he calmed down. They were a mess in more ways than one, and they both knew there’d be no recovering from this.

Castiel pulled away from them and began disposing of the bodies. Now that the fight was over, he realized they were all police men. Castiel knew at once that there was no case here. This had been an ambush, for Sam.

After taking care of the bodies and some preliminary healing from Castiel, the three of them drove home in silence. The Impala was the only one on the road, and Dean was the only one in the front seat. Castiel was in the back with Mary, tending to her more grievous wounds. It was a slow process, since Castiel had to heal them both without using up all of his grace and having to recharge, but it would do. Once they were healed enough to last the rest of the trip, Castiel fell asleep in the back seat.

To Dean’s relief, Mary seemed too tired to discuss what had happened. He didn’t see her go through Castiel’s pocket to get Sam’s phone. She’d seen him pick it up in the parking lot, and now she held it in her hand, feeling it’s fading warmth.

When Castiel awoke, they were at the Bunker. The three of them trudged inside and unloaded their bags. Once he was sure Mary was safe, Dean disappeared to his room for the night.

The heavy silence continued into the next day. Dean came into the kitchen for coffee and found the new pot already filled. He grabbed his mug, ignoring Sam’s still sitting on the drying rack from the previous day.

When he walked into the library, he could tell Mary and Castiel had been conversing without him. They stopped as Dean entered the room, but he knew what they were talking about.

Sam hadn’t come home that night.

Castiel had assured Mary that they fight like this sometimes, but it was only half true. Castiel had never seen them fight like this.

Conversation gradually broke out at the table, and Mary and Castiel finally revealed that they were planning on going to look for Sam. They invited Dean, but he declined. He seemed certain that Sam would come home after he’d cooled off. Mary preferred to share his optimism, even if Dean’s came from a place of anger, but Castiel knew better. He was still convinced there was something wrong with Sam, he just couldn’t prove it. And unless Sam prayed to him, he wouldn’t be able to find him.

Mary and Castiel spent the whole day driving around. It seemed to irritate Dean, who was sulking around the bunker making snarky comments every time they returned. Finally, Castiel was fed up. It was dusk, Castiel was exhausted, and they hadn’t had any luck after searching three states.

Dean said something to the effect of, “If only Sam searched this hard for us when we were in Purgatory,” and Castiel lost it.

“Your brother is out there somewhere, hurt and alone, because of you! If you’re really too stubborn to help, fine! But will you please shut up?”

Dean and Castiel both seemed surprised by his outburst. An awkward silence spread between them, then Dean got up from his laptop and walked over to Castiel.

Castiel sighed apologetically, “Dean, I’m sorry. I know this is hard on you, too. I just...”

But Dean never found out just what Castiel was. He grabbed him and punched him in the face before Castiel could realize what was going on. He hit the wall and gaped at Dean, hot blood pouring from his recently mended nose. In the few seconds it took Dean to move from the table to Castiel, his rage had roared to life. Castiel scrambled to his feet and Dean pursued him like an animal.

“Dean! Stop!”

Dean grabbed him, and he fought back. Castiel’s thoughts were flying as he blocked Dean left and right. Dean was unresponsive, and Castiel finally realized understood.

He took a punch to the jaw then grabbed Dean’s arm. His free hand shot up to Dean’s face and he pressed his fingers to his forehead so fast that Dean didn’t have time to move.

For a moment, Dean was suspended in a fit of rage, but then a light blinded him and he fell back in surprise. He knocked a chair over as he landed on his ass, gasping like he'd come out of water.

Castiel stared at him, panting. His lips was busted and his nose was broken, again.

Dean looked up at him in alarm. He saw the blood on his hands and on Castiel’s face, and gasped, “What… was that?”

Castiel took a deep breath. “I cured you,” he said, “The Nosoi, it didn’t make you sick. Well, not sick-sick. It made you...”

“Angry," Dean realized.

Castiel nodded, then helped Dean up, “Yes. You said it was a spirit of disease?”

Dean seemed a mile behind, like he’d been blinded by Castiel’s grace, but he nodded and Castiel pressed on.

“Well there are more diseases than those of the body," Castiel said, "The girl. The one who died. What did she die of?”

“What? I don’t… we never asked. They only told us after."

“Dean, this is important,” Castiel said, having a revelation, “You were infected but it didn’t affect your body, the way it did with the other patients, it affected your mind. It must attack the person's greatest weakness."

"Hey," Dean interrupted.

"It must have done the same to Sam. We need to find him.”

Dean rubbed his head, reeling with the information.

“Dean?"

Dean closed his eyes at last. Castiel was afraid he was going to lash out again. But instead, Dean furrowed his brow and said, “I'll get my coat.”

Castiel looked like he could have kissed him.

They got into the car together, Dean insisting he was good to drive. Castiel explained that Mary had gone North, so they should head South to cover more ground. Dean didn’t argue, he just drove.

He was oddly silent, but he knew what Castiel was about to say and he spoke up, "I'm fine, Cas. It's just… if it made me angry, what did it make Sam?"

Castiel could hear a hint of guilt in his voice. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean sighed. They hadn’t even gotten onto the main road when, as he opened his mouth to speak, he felt a rush of air envelop the car. He slammed on the brakes and looked over at the passenger seat.

Castiel was gone.

Dean swore loudly, “Really? Damnit, Cas!”


	3. Chapter 3

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c6/a8/uCI50cfo_o.jpg)

With a rush of air, Castiel appeared in a moonlit park overlooking a gleaming black river. He felt like he had flown a hundred miles. His wings crumpled and he knew immediately that his prediction had been correct – He wouldn’t be able to fly back. Heart racing, he scanned his surroundings for signs of life.

In the distance, Castiel could see black figures lying in the grass. He recognized it as the aftermath of a struggle and rushed over. Only the figure in the middle was still moving.

To Castiel’s relief, the figure moving was Sam. Castiel pulled him from the bloodied bodies, lightheaded with relief and somewhat amused that Sam could wreak so much havoc while injured, but Sam thrashed against him.

“Don’t!” Sam roared.

Castiel gripped Sam tighter, but it was clear that he thought he was still fighting for his life. He swung a punch, but Castiel ducked and reaffirmed his grip on him.

“Sam! It’s me! Let me...” another punch, “...help you!”

But it was useless. Sam was trying to break away and Castiel was too confused to do anything but grapple him. Sam had prayed for him. What was going on?

“Sam, stop!”

It was like he couldn’t hear him. He struggled and cried like a hurt animal, and it made Castiel’s heart sink.

“Don’t, please...” Sam begged.

Castiel loosened his grip sympathetically and Sam finally stopped, but not of his own volition. His panicked breathing slowed, and Castiel realized whatever fight Sam had just endured had finally took its toll on him: he'd fallen unconscious.

Castiel felt Sam’s full weight sink into him, and his knees nearly buckled. He moved Sam to a patch of undisturbed grass and held him close, trying to assess the damage. He brushed Sam’s hair out of his lax face and realized at last that he was covered in blood, water, and his eyes were puffy and red. Several of his wounds looked grievous.

One look at the bodies told Castiel that they weren’t human, but it still didn’t explain what had happened.

“Sam?” Castiel murmured, touching his face.

Confusion gave way to fear, and Castiel pressed his fingertips against Sam’s forehead.

A light pierced the night air, temporarily vanishing the bodies and the river. When it faded, Sam's wounds were healed, but he still looked ill.

He tried again, but only Sam’s surface wounds showed any improvement. Castiel couldn’t reach the infection like he had with Dean. He didn’t understand. It was the same infection, so why couldn’t he heal it?

Castiel couldn’t fly him back, he knew that. So the only thing to do was get him to safety and call for help. He lifted Sam into his arms, revelling at how much heavier he was than any other human Castiel had carried, and walked him out of the park.

Sam’s truck was parked nearby, so Castiel hefted him into the passenger seat and got inside. He found motel keys on the floor. After buckling Sam’s body into the seat, Castiel drove off, searching for the motel.

“I don’t know where he went, he just… vanished.”

“I thought he couldn’t fly anymore.”

“I thought so too but, that stuff makes about as much sense to me as crocs, so I dunno.”

“Do you think he’s found Sam?”

“Maybe.”

“Dean? Is everything okay? You sound different.”

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine. I’ll call if I hear from Cas.”

“Okay. Are you at the bunker?”

“No. Should I be?”

Mary paused, “It’s just… maybe you should stay put. In case he comes back, you know?”

“Mom. I’m fine, really.”

“I don’t want you taking any risks because you feel guilty...”

“...that’s kind of my specialty...”

“...and you shouldn’t be drinking and driving.”

“…How did you...?”

“Mom sense. I’ll be back soon and then we can talk, okay?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Dean hung up and looked around the wide expanse of Kansas farmland from the driver's seat of the Impala. Reality was slowly sinking in, and his mind was being assaulted with flashes of the warehouse parking lot. If anything happened to Sam now, it would be his fault. With nothing else to do, Dean turned the car around and headed back to the bunker.

Castiel managed to find the motel matching Sam’s keys and pulled in. It was late, and only a few rooms had their lights on behind the drab curtains. Castiel lugged the semi-conscious Sam to room 113 under the cover of darkness. He fumbled with the keys and somehow managed to get inside while bearing the brunt of Sam’s weight. Once inside, he tipped him onto the bed and locked the door.

Sam looked even worse under the yellow motel light. His wounds had healed, but he was covered in blood and his clothes were soaked. He looked like himself again now that he was asleep, but Castiel couldn’t get the image out of his mind of his face contorted with pain and confusion.

He returned to his side and tried to heal him once more, but his mind was a torrent of painful emotions and incoherent thoughts. The Nosoi infection seemed to be doing untold internal damage, much more than it had to Dean, but why? Why couldn’t he heal him?

In a moment of weakness, Castiel pulled Sam to him and put his arms around him. He should have said something sooner. He should have forced Dean to listen. He couldn’t lose Sam. He just couldn’t.

Sam stirred in Castiel’s arms. He awoke with a start and stared at Castiel. For a moment, Castiel felt relieved, but then Sam pushed him away. He fell out of bed in his haste, and when Castiel tried to help, he pulled out a knife.

“Don’t!” Sam shouted, hoisting himself up the side of the bed, “Don’t.”

Castiel raised his hands slowly, “Sam, it’s okay, you’re safe...”

Sam’s eyes darted to the door and he tried to run, but he was stopped by a painful limp and by Castiel, who flung himself at him in the blink of an eye. They hit the ground and Sam thrashed, but he was no match for Castiel in this state. Sam lost his knife but managed to kick Castiel and scramble away. He fell back on his butt and stared at him in shock.

“Sam!” Castiel rasped, tossing the knife and looking exhausted, “Stop!”

Sam stopped, but only because he was out of breath. He stared at Castiel like he was looking at a stranger and Castiel’s heart sank.

“I don’t know who that is!” Sam yelled, “I don’t know a Sam, and I don’t know you.”

Castiel stared at him. He tried to near him, but Sam scooted away looking traumatized. Castiel lowered his hands to the floor slowly, “You don’t know who I am?”

It was obvious that Sam was telling the truth, and Castiel felt his heart fall through the dingy motel carpet and into the damp earth.

“I...” Castiel didn’t know what to say. Sam looked liked a child – lost, angry, and confused. Castiel took a steadying breath and said, “My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.”

Sam stared at him wearily.

“And I'm your friend. Please. Let me help you.” he said carefully, then gestured to Sam’s injured leg.

Sam looked from his leg to Castiel, his eyes cloudy. He gave a short nod, like he didn’t know what in the world he was doing, and Castiel knelt down in front of him. Sam watched distantly as Castiel put a hand on his wet jeans. He didn’t understand what he was seeing, but a second later, the pain in his leg dissolved.

Sam gaped at Castiel, feeling his knee, “What...what did you do?”

“I’m an angel, Sam,” he said patiently, “I healed you.”

Sam stared at him like he’d seen a ghost. For a moment, Castiel was afraid he was going to hit him again, but then Sam shook a little, and Castiel knew it would be okay to touch him now. He put a hand on his shoulder, and Sam collapsed into him, shaking on his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Castiel comforted him, pulling him into a hug, “You’re safe.” he felt Sam clutching the panels of his coat, and Castiel decided he’d sit there with him for as long as he needed. He’d never seen Sam like this.

When Sam finally pulled away, Castiel helped him back to the bed. He used a bit more grace to dry his clothes, and noticed Sam watching him with an odd look on his face.

“You’re... an angel?” he asked hazily.

Castiel nodded, then realized what that look was – it was reverence. Castiel hadn’t received a look like that since he first landed on Earth. It wasn’t a fearful kind of reverence, it something much more profound, and Castiel realized where he’d seen it before. It was the look that Sam had first given him when they met on that hotel room years ago; When Sam still believe that God was good and Angels were guardians. He’d nearly fallen over himself to meet an angel. Now, he was injured and exhausted, but he had that same look, like he’d believed in him all along. Castiel found himself smiling at him. But his smile fell when Sam leaned forward and coughed. He gripped his sides in a fit of pain, then clutched his forehead.

“Sam?”

Sam collected himself, then asked weakly, “I don’t understand…what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Castiel leveled with him. He looked around the motel room for some clues but it was nearly empty. Sam had left with only the things that were in the truck that night. “Do you remember anything? Do you know where you are lor what you’re doing here?”

“No,” Sam shook his head.

“And you don’t remember me?”

Sam gave him an apologetic look.

Castiel sighed and sat down on the bed, “Okay.” Castiel steadied himself, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Sam shut his eyes, retreating into his head for a moment, but nothing seemed to come out of it. Finally he stammered, “N...no, I’m sorry.” Sam shut his eyes in frustration.

“It’s okay, Sam. We’ll figure this out...”

“There was the park, and the water...” Sam repeated, like he was trying to coax out the memories, “And I didn’t… I didn’t know what was going on...” Sam’s eyes opened suddenly, “A woman. There was a woman...” he coughed, clutching his head again.

“A woman?”

“Yes.” It looked like the memory was costing him a great deal. His expression screwed up in pain and he suddenly opened his eyes, looking winded. “She had red hair and… makeup.”

Castiel’s expression hardened, “Great. Just great.” But before he cold elaborate, Sam broke into a fit of coughs again. Castiel gripped his shoulder to steady him. “Sam? It’s okay, just relax.”

Sam’s head dropped on Castiel’s shoulder, his chest heaving. Castiel gripped his hand and Sam gripped it back.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, “I can’t remember anything else.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel assured him. “I need to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”

Sam didn’t have the strength to protest, so he nodded and closed his eyes, suppressing another cough.

Castiel stepped outside the motel room door, casting one more glance at Sam who was laying down and taking deep breaths. It was getting cold, and he could see town lights in the distance. The phone barely rang before a sultry voice answered.

“Hello, angel. What have I done now?”

“Sam Winchester.”

“Oi! You found him?”

“Rowena, what is going on?” Castiel demanded, “Why were you with him?”

“Oh never mind that, where is he? Is he okay?”

“No. He’s not. He doesn’t remember a thing.”

“Oh,” her voice became quiet, “I was afraid of that, the poor lad. If you’ll just give me your address I’ll be over before you can say 'haggis'.”

“It’s the motel on 41 and Lake, room 113. Now tell me what the hell...” Castiel paused. She’d hung up on him. He sighed and looked around, muttering a defeated, “haggis” to no avail.


	4. Chapter 4

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/5b/a2/AnsLM5wh_o.jpg)

When Castiel stepped back into the motel room, Sam looked worse than before. He was sitting over the side of the bed with head in his hands.

“Sam? Are you okay?” Castiel went to his side.

Sam’s eyes were bloodshot. “Castiel. I need to leave,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“No,” Castiel said at once, pushing Sam back into the bed, “You’re not well, Sam.”

“Are you really an angel?” he asked, like he hadn’t been listening.

Castiel stared at him, “Yes. Why?”

Sam looked away. The reverence in his eyes was gone and replaced with something like shame, “The people in the park, are they dead?”

“What?”

Sam looked at him in disbelief, "Did I… did I kill them?”

“Sam...” Castiel stared. If he didn’t know about angels, then did he know about monsters? “You didn’t have a choice. They attacked you and...”

“No… no no no.” Sam buried his face in his hands, “I did something horrible. I can feel it. Castiel...” Sam raked his fingers through his hair and stared desperately at him, “Castiel… there's something dark inside of me. I think I did something really bad… to someone I love.”

Castiel’s heart dropped.

“I can feel it, Castiel,” Sam insisted, “I think I… I think I’m bad. I think I’m a mon...”

“No,” Castiel cupped Sam’s face with his hands, “You, Sam Winchester, are one of the greatest men I know.”

“And if I did killed those people? Why would an… angel… be helping me?”

Castiel relaxed his grip a bit, “Because I will always be here to help you. You’ve done so much more good than bad, Sam.”

Sam smiled. At first it seemed sarcastic, but then it melted to something genuine. He put his hands over Castiel’s and hung his head.

“Castiel?”

“What is it?”

“Please don’t… don’t leave again,” Sam looked embarrassed saying it, but he couldn’t help himself.

Castiel nodded slowly, “I won’t.”

He sat like that for a while, just holding Sam while he waited for Rowena. He couldn’t help but notice that way Sam touched his hands. Castiel let him interweave their fingers, and Castiel felt guilty. Sam wasn’t in his right mind, but Castiel didn’t have the strength to stop him. He pulled Sam into a hug and rested his chin on his head.

After a few minutes Sam’s grip slackened and Castiel realized he was falling asleep. Castiel lay him back down in the bed and brushed his hair out of his face. Sam looked angelic like this, and Castiel felt a ddemon.in that moment, he swore to himself that he’d save Sam at any cost.

Sam awoke to the sound of knocking. Castiel gave him a cautious look, then got up. It looked like he hadn’t moved an inch, something Sam was grateful for.

Castiel withdrew his angel blade, making Sam stare in alarm, then opened the door. With a flash of red, Rowena strode right into the motel room and looked around.

“Where is he? Ah...” she stopped at the end of the Sam’s bed to look at him. It had begun to rain throughout the night and she was patting her hair anxiously.

“Castiel...” Sam stared back at her, “Who is...”

“Rowena,” Castiel sighed, stowing his blade, “She’s here to help.”

“Oh, Samuel, I was afraid something dreadful happened when we got separated. How many fingers am I holding up? Can you count to two?”

“Rowena,” Castiel interrupted her, “what did you do to him?”

“Me?” Rowena replied, cutting Sam off interjections, “I dinnae do anything to the boy. He came to me for a spell, which I naturally supplied, and then we were attacked.” Her smile fell and she gazed cautiously at Sam, “You don’t remember any of it?”

Sam shook his head hesitantly.

Rowena sighed.

Castiel stepped between her and the bed, “What. Spell?”

Rowena’s eyes flicked to Castiel, “A memory spell.”

Castiel looked mutinous.

“He came to me! What was I supposed to do? Tell a Winchester ‘no’? Have you ever tried that?”

Castiel gave her a tempered look that clearly said ‘yes’.

“Are you out of your mind?” She asked incredulously, “Besides, I owed him one and...” she sighed again, “You didn't see him. He needed it.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, but he thought he knew the answer. For a second he recalled that look on Sam's face in the park.

“I am right here, you know.”

“Hush, Samuel,” Rowena waved at him.

Castiel gave her a stern look, “Well I’m here now. So fix this.”

“Right,” Rowena set her bags down and moved to the bedside. She touched Sam’s forehead. He gave Castiel an unsure look, but Castiel nodded soothingly, “Tell me, can you taste the color blue?”

“...no?”

“Oh dear.”

Sam pulled away. “What?”

“Well...” Rowena looked from Sam to Castiel, “I dinnae know he was already under another spell. I wouldnae done it if I had known. It’s not good to mix magic like that.”

“Another spell?” Castiel asked.

“Yes, more like a curse, really. But, the two are interacting, feeding off one another, and I can’t… I can’t undo it.”

Castiel looked confused. Sam was silent.

Castiel approached Rowena dangerously, “You will undo it.”

“Well, I can fix the memory spell, but the curse will still be there...”

“I can fix the curse.”

“Yes, but… the spell I’d need takes time, and Sam hasn’t got much of that.”

The was a dark understanding brewing between the three of them. Finally, Sam spoke.

“It’s okay,” he told Castiel firmly.

“No. It’s not okay,” Castiel rounded on Rowena again, “What do you need to reverse the memory spell?”

“Er… taro root, lacewig flies...”

“Flies?”

“I’ll get them. Write it down,” Castiel said.

“Okay...” Rowena sighed impatiently.

While she scribbled it all down on a motel notepad, Castiel went to Sam.

“Just wait here, she’ll protect you. I’ll be bac - ”

“Castiel,” Sam stopped him, “you don’t need to do this.”

Castiel looked at him carefully. Sam was the most calm of the group, and Castiel didn’t like it, “You’re my friend, Sam. That means I’m going to save you.”

Sam sighed, but said, “Alright.”

Castiel was out the door with the list in the next second. But when he got into Sam’s truck he didn't reach for the ignition. He pulled out his phone.

It rang once before Dean answered.

“What the hell, Cas?”

“Sorry.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m with Sam.”

Dean went silent.

“Dean?”

“And? How is he?”

“Bad, Dean. He’s really bad. You need to get down here as fast as you can.”

“...Cas.”

“Dean, you will get in your car and drive here as fast as you can. Now," Castiel ordered.

There was a pause before, at last, Dean replied, “What’s the address?”


	5. Chapter 5

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/50/8c/WalH0gTE_o.jpg)

As soon as Castiel left, Rowena began setting up a small work space on the motel room desk. The base of the potion was simple enough to start right away – pyre, cauldron, and water – so Rowena got to work. She kept glancing up at Sam, a curious expression on her face.

“So you really remember nothing, do you?”

Sam watched her prod the pyre, “I remember everything after the spell, I think.”

Rowena nodded sympathetically, lighting a blue flame that didn’t seem to affect the desk.

“Rowena?”

“Yes, Samuel?”

“Are you an angel, too?”

Rowena laughed. She laughed so hard she had to daub her eyes with her fingertip. “Not even close," she smiled at him fondly, “But sometimes, you and I, we help each other out.”

“Hence, the spell.”

“Hence the spell,” Rowena agreed.

Sam was silent again, and for a moment Rowena could feel the next question coming. She was ready to deflect it at a moment’s notice, but it never came. Instead, Sam asked her something else.

“Why does Castiel want to save me so badly?”

Rowena paused, considering this, “Well, probably because he’s in love with you,” she joked, but Sam gave her a look that was so similar to Castiel that Rowena pitied him, “Just a joke, Samuel. I think. But, you can trust him, if that’s you mean.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled, “I figured that out already.”

Rowena was relieved. Sam had enough sense, even on his deathbed, not to ask what he wanted to forget. Rowena had forgotten he was the smart one.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Sam cleared his throat, “I mean, if you can’t do this, that’s okay.” He gave her a compassionate look, but Rowena didn’t return it.

“Surely you don’t want to die?”

“No, of course not, but…”

“But what?” Rowena had stopped stirring the potion, “Samuel.”

Sam took a deep breath, knowing he was in trouble for something, “I just… maybe I…"

"Maybe you deserve it?"

When Sam didn't respond, Rowena’s shoulders fell. She moved away from the desk and to Sam’s side, peering down at him like a mother hawk, “Many people deserve to die. Most people, if I’m being perfectly honest. But not you, Sam Winchester. Not you.”

Sam’s expression was stony, “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Neither do you!”

“You don’t understand! There’s this… this darkness inside of me. I can feel it.” Sam confessed to her. There were certain things he couldn’t say to angel, but he found himself saying it freely to her, “There’s something wrong with me, like I’m… unclean. And I know… I know I’ve done something horrible and I can’t...” Sam took a shuddering breath, “I can’t risk doing it again. I can’t hurt anyone else.”

“Don’t you dare, Sam,” Rowena warned, “This is risky enough as it is, but it won’t work at all if you want to die! You are a good person, Sam. I dunnae care what anyone says!”

“But I’m a...”

“What?” Rowena was fuming, “A freak? A monster? You’ve saved the damned world, you bampot!”

Sam bit his lips and looked away from her.

“Samuel, you are good. I know this because I am not,” she confided, “Promise me, Sam. Swear to me you’ll fight this.”

Sam glanced over at her, looking bleary eyed and tired, “I promise.”

Rowena sighed. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, “Good boy. This’ll all be over soon.”

Sam gave her a small smile. The next thing he knew, he had red hair in his face. Rowena gave him a small hug that was somehow both warm and stiff, and Sam returned it, resting his head over her shoulder. Despite Rowena’s encouragement, it felt like the last hug of a dying man. When she pulled away, she patted his head and returned to her desk.

“Sam! Oh no… Sam! Castiel, where are you?”

Rowena’s unattended potion was bubbling over onto the desk. Rowena was at Sam’s bedside, holding his head and looking frantic while Sam seized on the bed. His entire body was shaking and his eyes were white.

“Castiel!” she shrieked.

The motel room door swung open and Castiel rushed to Sam’s side, “What happened?”

“I don’t know! He just started shaking and he won’t stop!”

Castiel took Rowena’s place. Sam was twisting in pain, and Rowena was shouting desperately.

“Heal him!”

“I can’t!”

“Just try!”

Castiel clapped a hand to Sam’s forehead and pushed him into the pillows. Castiel’s eyes glowed, and Sam froze up. A ringing sound filled the room and Rowena covered her ears and ducked out of the way. Sam’s eyes glowed back at Castiel, and then everything stopped.

Sam gasped like he’d come back to life, sitting bolt upright. Castiel and Rowena sighed in unison.

“C...Cas?” Sam stared wildly at him. He was gripping Castiel’s arm painfully tight.

“What did you do?” Sam breathed.

Castiel took a steadying breath, “You were dying. I stopped it. But I don’t know for how long. That might not work a second time.”

Sam nodded weakly.

“Boys? I don’t mean to interrupt but, perhaps now’s the time to call Dean?”

Castiel turned to her, “I already...” but a violent motion from the bed made him turn back around.

Sam was clutching his forehead and gritting his teeth in pain, “No!”

“Sam?” Castiel gripped his shoulders.

“No… don’t call Dean. Promise me you won’t call Dean!”

Rowena watched apprehensively as Sam teetered on the edge of another seizure.

“You remember Dean?” Castiel asked cautiously.

Sam gasped again and looked up at Castiel, “No, I just… I know you can’t call him.” His brows came together in confusion, “Dean can’t be here.”

“Sam...”

“Promise me, Castiel!”

“Alright. I won’t call Dean,” Castiel agreed swiftly.

Sam’s body relaxed and he closed his eyes in relief. Whatever memory the name had triggered was too much for him.

“But, you should know…” Castiel murmured, “he would want to be here.”

Sam shook his head and lay back down, panting like he’d just run a mile, “No. It’s important. He can’t… he can’t come near me,” Sam’s voice shook desperately.

Castiel exchanged a worried look with Rowena, who pursed her lips and picked up the bags of ingredients from where Castiel had dropped them.

Sam was asleep in moments, exhausted by the use of Castiel’s grace on his body. He fell asleep with his hand in Castiel’s, and Castiel left it there for him, watching him like a statue.

After a while he asked, “How’s it coming?”

The cauldron was bubbling happily, but Rowena didn’t sound pleased, “Slowly. Can you keep healing him like that?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really healing him, just staving off death,” Castiel sighed. “I don’t understand why this is happening.”

“Magic is temperamental, especially when they intera...”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Rowena whispered some words and the flames glowed white. “You already called Dean, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Castiel said flatly, “But I didn’t want to distress him further.”

Rowena pursed her lips again.

“Did he tell you about the warehouse?” Castiel asked quietly.

“No,” Rowena said.

“So you just performed a memory spell without knowing which memory he wanted gone?”

“I saw it when I did the spell,” she explained, “He knew I would. He just… couldn’t say it out-loud.”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “You should know, Dean was cursed, too. They hunted a Nosoi, a spirit of illness, and it infected them. They’re weren’t themselves at the warehouse.” Castiel explained, feeling even guiltier about how tightly Sam was holding his hand.

Rowena didn’t respond. Finally, the flames turned red and the potion calmed. “Sam didn’t ask to forget what happened at the warehouse,” she said plainly.

Castiel glanced over at her.

In a quiet voice, she said, “He asked to forget Dean, so he could never hurt him again.”

Castiel shut his eyes. Frustration began boiling in him, overwhelming him until he was numb. He gently let Sam’s hand go and got up.

“I need to make a phone call,” he said brusquely, then left the room.

The moon was high, and the town lights were almost all extinguished. There were no headlights on the road and the other motel rooms were dark. Castiel took out his phone and dialed.

“Castiel! How are you?”

“Hi, Mary,” Castiel said, putting on a falsely casual voice, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, it’s okay. What’s up?”

“I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m in uh...” he glanced at the motel sign blaring against the night sky, “Thomas, Oklahoma. I found a case here and I was wondering if you could meet me.”

“So… no sign of Sam?”

Castiel took a breath, “Not yet.”

“Hm. Sorry, Cas, I pulled over in Nebraska for the night. Even if I left now, I couldn’t make it there until morning.”

“O...okay. That’s okay, then. I’ll handle it.”

Mary was silent for a moment. Then, “Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Did you find Sam?”

It was Castiel’s turn to go silent.

“Castiel.”

The sound of Mary's voice terrified him for some reason. Knowing it was useless to lie, he said, “You won’t make it in time.”

He could hear Mary’s heart pound from three states away. When she finally replied, her voice was dangerous.

“Give me the address.”

It took Castiel a while to reenter the motel room. When he did he looked harassed and tired. Rowena was busy at the cauldron while Sam slept, counting as she stirred the potion clockwise, then counter clockwise. All was peaceful for a moment, until Sam gasped out of his sleep.

Castiel hurried to his side, “Sam!” but he had started to seize again.

Rowena closed her eyes, counting shakily.

“Rowena, hurry!”

“I can’t hurry! Four five six. This is a timed potion!”

Castiel snarled like an animal then pressed his hand to Sam’s forehead. Sam gasped and lurched upright, coughing into his knees and trembling.

“Cas!” He reached out and grabbed Castiel’s tie, “Cas...”

“It’s alright. I’m here,” Castiel glanced at Rowena in relief as Sam fell into him, coughing and sputtering. Castiel rubbed his back patiently, waiting for Sam to come around.

Sam was coming out of these fits worse off each time. Castiel didn’t know how much longer this could go on. Sam wiped his eyes briskly and sat up.

“Cas. What’s happening?”

Castiel didn’t know what to do, except lie, “It’s okay.”

Sam appreciated the lie nonetheless. He rested against Castiel as he caught his breath. Finally he asked, “You called him, didn’t you?”

Castiel sighed, “I had to, Sam. He loves you.”

Castiel couldn’t see Sam’s face buried in his chest, but he felt Sam continuing to wipe his face.

“Sam. Dean loves you. Mary loves you. I… love you.”

Sam sat up to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot, “I can’t… I can’t fight this."

“Can’t or won’t?”

Rowena kept her eyes on the potion, which was now exuding a minty green haze.

Sam smiled weakly.

“Sam, you have to fight this.” Castiel grabbed him, “If you wanted to die you would have done it in that park. You would have let those werewolves kill you. You prayed for me!” He reasoned desperately, “You didn’t know angels were real and you still prayed.”

Sam’s smiled wavered and he looked guilty. Finally he whispered, “I just didn’t want to die alone.” He looked at Castiel.

Castiel paled. “You won’t,” he promised.

Sam could tell he was at last telling him the truth, and Sam put an arm around him. Overwhelmed, Castiel kissed his head and closed his eyes. Sam didn't move to atop, but rather he leaned against him. But, remembering Rowena was there, Castiel opened his eyes and pulled away.

Sam lay back down gratefully. He looked exhausted. Castiel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Rowena looked away.

“How much longer?”

Rowena eyed her potion carefully, “Fifty eight minutes exactly.”

Castiel didn’t know how she knew that, but he didn’t care anymore. He sank back down beside Sam and resumed watched him.

“Just keep healing him, Castiel. He’ll be alright.”

“Will he… will he just drink it?”

“Yes. It’ll have to cool first, but then he’ll drink it and you can ‘do your thing’.”

Castiel fumbled with his hands, lost in thought. Once he was sure Sam was asleep, he murmured, "If I keep healing him like this… I won’t have enough grace left to ‘do my thing’.”

Rowena didn’t respond. She’d rather Castiel not have told her that. She could see his light fading as quickly as Sam’s. She closed her eyes and kept counting.

“One, two, three.”


	6. Chapter 6

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/28/38/q5HdSb4f_o.jpg)

Outside the motel room curtains, the sky was black. The moon had vanished behind dark clouds, and it seemed like even the stars had gone out. Sam’s truck sat gleaming by the only lit window in Thomas, Oklahoma – Room 113.

Inside, the tense, endless silence, broken only by the bubbling cauldron, erupted as Sam seized again. Castiel was at his side trying to pull him out of it, pushing grace through him to suspend his life just a little longer. The seizures were getting more frequent, and Rowena still had twenty four minutes left.

Sam came out of his seizure again, leaving both he and Castiel panting in exhaustion. Rowena looked at Castiel and he could tell she was trying to gauge how much grace he had left. The answer was grave.

“Castiel...” Sam looked at him weakly.

“Yeah?” Castiel breathed.

Sam had that calm, heroic expression back on his face; The one that filled Castiel with dread.

“Don’t...”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Sam said it anyway, like he was giving him permission, “You’ve done more for me than I could ever ask.”

“Sam...”

“Thank you.”

Castiel looked away, unable to see that expression any longer. It was so at odds with Castiel’s determination, like it was challenging it, and yet it was impossibly, inescapably, the truth. Sam wasn’t going to make it.

Castiel looked back down when he felt Sam touch his face. He looked like he was remembering something, or maybe just checking to see if a memory was there. His thumb felt over the stubble of Castiel’s chin, and Sam’s thoughts seemed to quiet, replaced by a feeling left unaffected by any magic or spirit, freed from subconscious of his soul. He sat up slightly, and Castiel knew it was going to happen before it did. Guilt be damned, Castiel didn’t move away. He didn’t think of Mary or Dean, he didn’t think of anything. His thoughts flew away as freely as Sam’s as Sam leaned up and kissed him.

Their lips parted and they hovered there for what felt like an eternity. Sam’s face was masked by Castiel’s shadow, and Castiel’s forehead was pressed against his. The silence in the room was back, but it wasn’t tense. Sam’s calmness soothed Castiel.

Rowena, who had suddenly become invisible, looked up quickly to inspect the ceiling.

“Sam. You’re going to be okay.” Castiel lied, his hand shaking as he wove it through Sam's hair.

Sam nodded and smiled, “Thank you," then kissed Castiel’s cheek and lay back down.

Castiel kept his hand atop Sam's, watching him with something like reverence.

Castiel began to feel cautiously optimistic once they hit the twenty minute mark, but his optimism was shattered as Sam fell into a fourth seizure. It was in that unending moment that a pair of headlights flashed behind the curtains, masked by the commotion.

Castiel was shouting at Rowena while trying to heal Sam, Rowena was shouting back over the cauldron, then everyone jumped when the door burst open.

“Sam?” Dean came in looking overly caffeinated and ready to fight. He rushed to Sam’s side opposite Castiel. “What’s happening?” he yelled, but no one responded.

He watched helplessly as Castiel tried to pull Sam out of his seizure, Rowena frantically ushering words into the haze of her cauldron. Sam was gasping uselessly, his body nearly twisted off the bed.

“Sammy! Come on! Fight it!” Dean shouted, grabbing his arm, “Come on!”

Something in Sam seemed to wake at last, and Castiel was able to pull him back. Sam gasped and sputtered, staring at Dean like he couldn’t see him. Castiel swayed in relief, clutching Sam’s shoulder. As Sam calmed, he seemed to realize who he was looking at. His eyes focused in shock.

Dean smiled in relief, but Sam didn’t smile back. Sam swallowed and tried to scoot back, like he was seeing a ghost.

Dean’s smile faltered, “Sammy?”

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, then his expression screwed up in pain. When he opened his eyes he looked exhausted.

“’m sorry...” Sam mumbled. Despite his best efforts, tears trickled down his face. He leaned onto Castiel, not hearing Dean's reassurances, then fell unconscious.

Dean looked like he’d punched in the gut. He watched stonily as Castiel held Sam upright.

“He needs rest, Dean,” Castiel said nervously.

Dean wanted to punch something, but there was nothing to punch. The Nosoi was dead. So why was this happening? He finally noticed Rowena and rounded on her.

“What is she doing here? Cas, what the hell is going on?” Dean’s voice shook.

Castiel layed Sam back down and looked at Dean wearily, “Sam made Rowena wipe his memory, but he was infected and it… backfired.”

Dean glared at Rowena, “You wiped his memory?”

“He asked me to.”

“And you did it?”

“Don’t be daft! Of course I did it.”

“Enough!” Castiel silenced them both, “Dean, I’ll explain everything. Rowena, keep working.”

Rowena mimed Castiel’s words, resuming the work she had never stopped doing in the first place, while Castiel led Dean outside to talk.

The sky had gone from inky black to dark blue as dawn neared. Castiel told Dean everything he knew, and this time Dean didn't interrupt. At the end, he wanted to know what it was that Sam wanted to forget, and with a heavy voice Castiel told him that, too.

Dean went quiet, and Castiel could tell he was seconds away from taking his anger out on the door.

“Dean. Don’t.”

Dean glared at him, but Castiel knew he didn’t mean it. Dean reeled himself back and took a deep breath, like he was trying to conquer himself.

“So how long until she’s done?” He asked softly.

“Um… maybe fifteen minutes?”

“And Sam? How long does he have?”

Castiel sighed, “It’s a miracle he’s still alive. I don’t know how he’s doing it.”

“Does mom know?”

“She’s on her way.”

Dean nodded numbly, “What about you?”

Castiel glanced at him.

“How’s your grace? Can you keep this up?”

Castiel knew all along he wouldn’t be able to keep that a secret, but just couldn’t tell Dean no. So he stayed silent.

“Right,” Dean nodded again. If there was one thing Dean was good at it, it was channeling his anger into action. With a steely look in his eye that always exhausted Castiel, he said, “Come on then. Let’s do this.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, “Do what?”

“You need more grace to save Sam...”

“...Dean...”

“So we’re going back in there, and you’re going to touch my soul.”

“Dean, that’s not.”

“I’m not asking, Cas,” Dean warned.

Castiel assessed him for a moment, then he sneered, “I am so sick and tired of Winchesters sacrificing themselves! This is exactly what put Sam in that bed, and I'm not about to do that to you. Have you even thought of what Sam would say? He wants to die, Dean. And if you die instead it would… it would...”

Dean shut his eyes, "He told you that?"

Caatiel paused, "No. But, it's true."

Dean nodded to himself weakly.

"Dean…" Castiel said gently, "The illness. It attacks…"

"Whatever's weakest. I know," Dean nodded again. Finally, he took a deep breath, "Well, I'm not going to die," he said boldly, "because you’re not going to mess up.”

“Dean, I am exhausted, I can’t...”

“Yes. You can."

The steely look in Dean’s eye was so cocky that Castiel wanted to punch him. And yet, he knew Dean’s faith in him was the only thing keeping him together. And Dean's anger, his fury, it had found its use.

Castiel sighed heavily, “Alright. But if I do this, then this fight between you and Sam...” he said seriously, “...it ends. The Nosoi, what Sam did, what you did, it’s over.”

Dean studied him shrewdly, then conceded. “Deal.”

Dean followed Castiel back into the motel room and went straight to the second bed. They walked in with such purpose that Rowena looked up apprehensively. She saw Dean take his jacket off and lay down for Castiel.

“What’s going on…?”

“I’m touching his soul.” Castiel undid his tie.

“You… what?” she cried, “Are you both mad?”

“Probably,” Dean said, closing his eyes as Castiel put a hand on his chest.

“Castiel, you don’t have the energy for that!”

Castiel ignored her, suffocating the last voice of reason left in him.

Rowena made a frustrated noise, “Winchesters! Do you have to turn everything into a sacrificial pissing contes - ”

“We already covered that, but thanks,” Dean cut her off, then bit down on a rolled up hand towel.

And before Rowena could make any more objections, Castiel and Dean nodded at each other and Castiel reached his hand straight into Dean’s chest.

Rowena gaped as light enveloped the point of entry. Dean shouted in pain through his towel. It looked like his body was trying to break free of its own skin. But Dean held the head board above him tight, and Castiel kept going.

Castiel was taking a while, but Dean didn’t think about it. He couldn’t. He just kept counting as white hot pain replaced his body and became his universe. As each second ended, another one began, far too many, but every second he'd ever been tortured had prepared him for this. He pushed his anger out of him to endure it, to save Sam.

Finally, Castiel pulled his arm back out and everything went quiet. Rowena stared at Dean, who was lying sweaty and motionless on the bed. Castiel fell back and gasped, clutching his chest.

“Cas? Is he...” Rowena couldn’t finish her question.

Castiel was glowing with grace, but Dean wasn’t moving.

Rowena banged her elbow against a dresser in surprise when Dean groaned. She swore, taking the words right out of Dean’s mouth. He sat up wearily and looked wide-eyed at Castiel. He was sitting on the floor against Sam’s bed, panting and smiling. Dean smiled back.

Rowena rolled her eyes, “Winchesters."

Castiel and Dean sat on opposite beds facing each other and talking while they recovered. Rowena was down to ten minutes, and Castiel had his hand on Sam’s, to constantly check his pulse, he told Dean. But at some point in his sleep, Sam took his hand in his.

Dean eyed Castiel in mild surprise, "He really must be sick."

Castiel rolled his eyes and Dean helped himself to a mini vodka. Dean didn't say anything else about it, for which Castiel was grateful.

“So I called the hospital,” Dean was saying, “About the girl who died after we killed the Nosoi.”

Castiel was listening to him over the beat of Sam’s heart.

“After what you said, I thought it would be good to know. Dad’s journal doesn’t say anything about Nosoi illness after death.”

“And? How did she die?”

Dean looked at him heavily for a moment. “Suicide. The hospital told me she had a ‘preexisting condition’ that made the infection affect her worse than the others.”

Castiel sighed, “Dean. You don’t know it was because of the Nosoi.”

“It’s what happened to us. Come on, Cas, I know what that ‘preexisting condition’ crap is code for. She was messed up, just like Sam and me. We just… deal with it differently.”

“Dean. You couldn’t have saved her.”

Dean deflated. Leave it to Cas to cut right to the bone of the conversation, “That’s not...”

“You didn’t know. I might have been able to cure her, I might not. It’s not your fault,” Castiel said carefully, “And neither is this.”

Dean stared at Sam, his eyes red. In a quiet voice he asked, “When he wakes up," he cleared his throat, "Think he’ll forgive me?”

Before Castiel could respond, Rowena made a noise. Dean and Castiel both looked at her.

“He already has,” she informed him, “I was in his head, remember? He...” she took an incredulous breath, "he loves you."

Dean glared in exhaustion, “Any chance you’ll lose your memory, too?”

“Nope,” she winked slyly at Castiel, who paled.

A hoarse cough turned everyone’s attention to Sam’s bed. He was struggling in his sleep and his chest was heaving.

“Cas, is that? Heal him...” Dean got up, “Rowena, how much time?”

Before she could even answer, Sam began seizing again, “Er… five minutes.”

“Make it one!” Dean shouted.

Rowena ignored him to concentrated on the potion. It was murky black and swirling like the eye of a storm. All it had left to do was turn blue.

“Sam!” Castiel shouted, his hand on Sam’s forehead, and Castiel shown like a beacon, but it wasn’t enough. Sam came out of his seizure, then immediately fell into another one.

“Sammy, come on!” Dean grabbed his head to keep him from banging it on the headboard, then kept goading him on, “Come on, Sammy, stay with us. Fight this! Fight! Cas, please!”

Castiel’s eyes were completely blue, like two icy headlights peering into Sam’s soul.

“Rowena!”

“Three minutes!”

Sam’s eyes fluttered open, and he gripped Dean’s hand back. They made eye contact for half a second and Sam’s eyes watered, then they went slack and he fell under another attack.

“Two minutes.”

“Sam…" Castiel's voice rung ethereally beside Dean, and Dean swore he could hear it both inside and outside of his body.

"Come on, Sammy. Don't you dare stop fighting!"

Rowena counted down to one minute, then gasped. The potion was blue. She tore it off the fire and hurried to Sam’s side. It was still boiling.

“Dean, he needs to drink this now. Hold him down!”

Dean held him down without hesitation, then opened Sam’s mouth with a pained, “Sorry, Sam.”

Rowena screwed up her expression, then poured the boiling water down Sam’s throat. Sam’s body convulsed in agony. Castiel put a hand to Sam’s throat, and Dean knew he was healing the damage as it went.

Once the last drop had left the cauldron, Rowena moved back.

“Castiel, heal him now!”

Castiel couldn’t tell if the potion had worked, but if it did, then all he had to do was cure Sam’s infection. Rowena dropped the cauldron on the desk then spun back around to watch.

It was time. A bright light emanated from Castiel, and for a brief moment both Rowena and Dean looked up like they had seen a colossal bird take flight, filling up the whole room. Castiel was radiating with power from Dean’s soul, like an overcharged battery. Castiel threw his hand onto Sam's forehead, the lights flickered, and outside of the curtain the motel sign shut off with a final, dead spark.

Behind the curtain, Rowena saw two lights approach. Steps crunched on the rocky pavement in the distance of her mind, and she opened the door amidst the chaos without a second thought. A blonde woman rushed inside, gave Rowena a startled look, then hurried to the bed.

“Sam?” Dean did a double take as their mother joined him. Mary was in shock as she watched her youngest son dying, “Sammy?”

Finally, Sam stopped moving.

Castiel’s light slowly dimmed, and so did Dean’s. Rowena watched from afar, unable to see Sam’s face, but she knew he should have been moved by now. She looked away.

Everyone was frozen in time. Mary idly rubbed Dean’s back, but he didn’t budge. The only sound was that of early morning birds beginning to sing to one another outside.

Someone gasped, and Rowena hit the dresser again.

“Sam?”

A cough, a sputter, and Sam jolted upright. He clutched Castiel’s shoulder and Dean’s arm, gasping for breath. In an instant, time had resumed.

In Sam’s haze, he didn’t feel Dean hug him, nor did he feel Castiel checking his forehead for the hundredth time, but he watched it all happening like from behind a slowly opening curtain. He felt his body gradually reenter the world, like a light that was getting ever brighter.

“Dean?” he rasped.

Dean grinned, “Yeah, you got it.” Dean squeezed his shoulder, beaming at him.

Sam looked around the room, taking in each and every face in the dingy motel that somehow felt like home. Even Rowena was tearing up in relief. Sam smiled breathlessly.


	7. Chapter 7

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/a2/94/KLKhmpts_o.jpg)

The early morning sky had lightened from cold blue to pink before Sam was well enough to get up. Dean had gone through the entire mini bar to celebrate, and Mary wouldn’t leave Sam’s side. Castiel kept stealing glances at him while everyone else caught up, and Sam found himself doing the same thing. Castiel wasn’t sure how much Sam remembered, but it was too happy of an occasion to worry about anything yet.

As the sun rose, they called Rowena a cab, and Sam gave her a crushing, one armed hug before she left. She wobbled into the cab, her hair in disarray, but looked pleased nonetheless.

“What?” Castiel looked at Dean. Dean had a strange smile on his face as he watched Mary see Rowena off.

“It’s just… Rowena’s on our side now, right? It’s strange to think Mary will never know she wasn’t.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

Dean had clearly been considering it, but he replied, “No. It's in the past. Doesn't matter anymore," Dean said, throwing out the last of the mini bottle, “Right, Cas?”

Cas smiled in agreement. If he had learned anything it was that some things didn’t need mentioning. Except, there were always some things that did.

Dean pretended not to watch as Castiel went to Sam, who was getting his things together back in the room. Dean couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Castiel said something that made Sam look at him for a while. Neither of them spoke, but then Sam smiled sheepishly and took Castiel into a long hug. Dean looked away and smiled into the morning sun.

As they went out to the cars, Castiel encouraged Mary to check something around the front of the motel, and Mary was perfectly fine pretending to be interested.

Sam realized he was alone with Dean at once. The space between them went quiet for the first time since Sam was cured. He looked at his brother hesitantly from under the back-hatch of the truck then opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean muttered, pulling him into a hug. It was a different hug than Sam and Castiel’s, but it was no less important to Sam.

His words died in his throat, so he hugged Dean back instead. They shared a silent moment together, ending with Dean sneaking a kiss to the top of his head. Sam felt dazed but happy.

“We good?” Sam breathed.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean smiled, and shut the hatch of the truck, “Let’s go home.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/5d/49/H5vcz6Uy_o.jpg)


End file.
